Category: wandering mind
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Creative Clutter
I took my car in this morning. Driving around in 90 degree weather with the heater on to dissipate heat from the engine burns my tootsies. And yesterday, while the gauge was climbingclimbingclimbing rising like a volcano I had a vision the floor would catch on fire and I’d be fucked. Not to mention my…
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Revisions
I’m going to tackle some revisions. I can’t go forward if I don’t go back, I’ve decided, and back into poems that I love to make them better, stronger, piercing (I hope). I’ve tried to apply suggestions to the new drafts and I feel distrusting of myself (which is bad bad for a poet) it’s…
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It's only Tuesday
My blue dress and black tights and poet boots and green and white stripey cardigan isn’t as twirly today. My dress sticks to my tights when I walk. wadded up like toilet paper when you wad toilet paper. It inches higher and higher on my thighs. I walk like a little girl tugging a wedgie.…
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Virginia Woolf may be on to something
For lunch today I sliced a ripe tomato, fresh mozzarella, plucked green basil. Drizzled sea salt and boysenberry balsamic vinegar on top and ate ate ate. I ate with a fork and my fingers. I ate fresh, sweet, filling food and it helps the soul a little. So does chocolate goodness, but I have to…
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A big Tuesday mish-mash
Last night I had a dream that an old friend asked me to be in her sister’s wedding. I haven’t talked to this friend in a while and I was late in getting ready. About 3 or 4 hours late. But who needs THAT much time to get ready? That and I didn’t have the…
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A day with Lindsey in New York
Yesterday, I ditched work (well told THEM I was ditching work) and Linds and I hopped on a bus with a few sleepy-eyed commuters and hit NYC. It’s refreshing and exhausting and over stimulating and sometimes near impossible to open up, let open, my skin the way maybe I should in a city. But I…
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Tubers
I saw a man today walking on tuber legs. Round mound calves, bulging and scaled with dry skin. His feet were curled inward from the weight. His socks were ripped from the pressure of skin. I was trying not to stare and felt like a little girl who doesn’t know any better. But I’m only curious how…
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The sparrows shook when they sang
What the fuck is going on today? I’m carrying too much weight. A book bag cutting into my shoulder, a faint brown stain on my blue dress, runs, holes, pithy tears in my tights. And all of these things I’m finding later, holding later, carrying when it’s too late to turn around. I’m wrapped around…